Date: Mon, 17 May 2004 15:55:41 +0100
From: Gymnopedies <gym@softhome.net>
Subject: Calvin - Too Cool For School

The usual disclaimers apply: don't read if you are prohibited by location,
are under legal age, or if you are likely to be offended by explicit
descriptions of gay sex. The story is pure fiction and is not based on any
actual events.

This is completely imaginary story and features Calvin Goldspink from the
group SClub. The story is in no way intended to reflect or imply anything
about the personality or the sexuality of Calvin or of any other real life
person. The story will be complete in four chapters.

Gymnopedies
gym@softhome.net


Calvin - Too Cool For School
----------------------------

Part 1 of 4

Calvin knew immediately that he'd made a mistake. With a sinking feeling,
he watched the last of his friends disappear through the door that led into
the short corridor connecting the gym with the boys' changing room. He
almost called out to Dan Murphy to wait for him. Almost. But in the end he
held back. His damn pride got in the way yet again. When you're fourteen
years old, one of the last things you want to admit to anyone is that you
are being bullied and can't deal with the situation yourself. With a sigh
he turned his attention to the five boys who stood between him and the
exit.

Tom Mallory, the leader of the small gang, faced Calvin, a sneer curling
the corners of his mouth. "Look at the big star, boys," he snarled. "Thinks
he's better than the rest of us. Just because he has a few dopey girls
chasing him he's suddenly too cool to mix with ordinary people."

"Just leave me alone, Tom," Calvin muttered. "You're talking crap, as
usual. I'm here at an ordinary school aren't I?"

Tom nudged the boy next to him and grinned before turning his attention
back to Calvin. "Yeah, but we know that's just for show. You have your
fancy private tutor when you're off posing and trying to sing."

"I didn't choose to have a tutor," Calvin explained. "None of us were given
any choice. It just has to be like that to stop us falling behind with
stuff." He knew he was wasting his time. The private tutor was just the
latest in a list of things that Tom and his cronies had hooked on as an
excuse to taunt the young star. Other subjects had included his clothes,
his hair and his "famous friends". "There goes Calvin, too cool for
school," was a taunt he heard from them on a regular basis.

Ironically, he was fighting a constant battle just to be allowed to stay at
this school. His parents were convinced that he would do much better at a
private school, something that previously they hadn't been able to consider
for financial reasons but which could now be easily financed by Calvin's
income from SClub. Calvin, however, was determined to stay put. He liked
this school. He had friends here and on the whole he liked the teachers,
most of whom were fairly understanding about his extended absences from
lessons. The only thing he didn't like was Tom and his band of "merry men".

Tom looked again at the boy next to him, an overweight and non too bright
teenager called William. "I think Calvin needs to be taught another
lesson," he said.

"Oh, come on Tom. You don't need to do this," said Calvin, weakly. "If you
don't like me, that's fine. Can't we just stay out of each other's way?"

"But you're in my way," said Tom. "And we're going to show you what we
think of jumped up little pop tarts." He took a step forwards.

Calvin automatically stepped back. He knew there was nowhere to run; there
was no chance at all that he would be able force his way past the five
boys, three of whom were far bigger than he was. He wondered what they had
in mind for him this time. The one good thing was that they had never done
anything violent towards him, not up to now anyway. There had been plenty
of pushing and shoving and loads of name calling, but no actual damage
done. Two days ago they had cornered him in the school yard and tied him to
a fence, leaving him there. Luckily a few minutes later some other boys had
found him and set him free, though not soon enough to stop him getting into
trouble with a teacher for being late for his next lesson. Most of the time
Calvin managed to keep himself safe by staying close to his friends; Tom's
gang never did or said anything when anyone else was around. But they still
sometimes managed to catch him alone, and when they did he knew that he was
going to have to endure whatever they chose to do to him.

"I think we should fasten him up again, like we did before," said Tom with
an evil grin. "Give him some time to think about things." He glanced around
his gang and his suggestion was met with laughs and nods of agreement.

"I'm not going to let you tie me up in here," said Calvin, his expression
becoming determined. He stepped forwards and pushed Tom aside, or rather he
tried to. He was immediately grabbed by five pairs of hands and dragged
across to the wooden wall bars that covered the gymnasium walls. He tried
to struggle, but it was no good, it was five against one.

"Hold him," said Tom, pulling some pieces of string from his shorts
pocket. He'd obviously come prepared for this. "Hold his arms out."

Two of the boys held onto Calvin and another two each took one of the boy's
arms, pulling them out straight. While they held him in position, Tom used
the string to tie his wrists tightly to the wall bars. In less than a
couple of minutes Calvin was fastened helplessly with his arms
outstretched, his wrists bound just above shoulder level. He was panting
heavily from the struggle and from his anger at the humiliation he was
being forced to endure.

"There he is, ready to greet his fans," Tom jeered. The gang had gathered
around Calvin in a semicircle and were all having a good laugh at his
situation. "I've just had an idea," their leader announced. He stepped up
to the bound teen and taking hold the front of Calvin's blue gym vest, he
lifted it from the bottom and pushed it over the boy's head, tucking it
behind his neck. Calvin's smooth chest, shiny with sweat from his struggle
was now on view.

"Please, Tom, this isn't funny. Don't leave me like this," Calvin begged.

"I think it's pretty funny," said Tom. "I wonder whether it will be girls
or boys using the gym next? What do you think Will?" he asked the fat boy.

Will shrugged as if he really couldn't care. "I dunno."

"My bet is that it will be the girls," said Tom.

"In that case, pull his shorts down as well," suggested Eddie Jarvis,
another of the gang.

"Good idea." Tom reached for the boy's blue shorts.

"No!" Calvin kicked out to try fend off his assailant, but Tom easily
avoided the teen's foot and tugged the short's down to Calvin's knees
revealing a pair of white cotton briefs.

"You stinking, rotten bastard!" Calvin cried, his frustration at his
helplessness coming out as anger.

"What did you just call me?" Tom's face twisted in anger. He clenched his
fist and held it close to Calvin's face. "Nobody talks to me like that. I
ought to punch your lights out."

Calvin tensed up, anticipating the blow. But it never came. Instead Tom's
expression changed into a cruel sneer. He opened his hand and lightly
slapped the boy's cheek. Then, extending his finger he touched it to
Calvin's chin and traced it down the teen's neck and onto his heaving
chest. Without warning he grabbed one of Calvin's nipples and gave it a
sharp twist causing the young star to yell out in pain. "Don't ever call me
that again," he said, softly. He turned as if to walk away, the suddenly
turned back and taking hold of the waistband of Calvin's briefs, he yanked
them down.

There was a moment's shocked silence followed by the sound of laughing and
sniggering as all the gang stared and pointed at Calvin's now fully exposed
body; everything between his chin and his knees was on show.

"Look at that," laughed Eddie. "Bet the girls wouldn't be chasing him
around if they saw that's all he had to offer."

"Well it looks like they might be finding out pretty soon," said Tom. "Come
on, boys, time we were going."

"Tom, don't. Please let me go. I'll do anything you want," Calvin pleaded,
beginning to panic. His cries did no good. With frequent amused glances
back over their shoulders, Tom and his gang left the gym.

Now all alone, Calvin fought to control his breathing in an effort to calm
himself. At any moment he expected a class full of girls to enter the gym
and find him strung up here, practically naked. If that happened he knew he
would die of humiliation. Frantically he pulled with his arms, trying to
free himself, but this only resulted in the string digging sharply into his
wrists causing him to grimace with pain. As the minutes ticked by his
frustration mounted. He knew that by this time the next class-period had
already started. The next class to use the gym, be it girls or boys, would
already be in their respective changing rooms getting ready, unaware of the
surprise that awaited them.

Something else occurred to Calvin. If a class full of kids walked in and
found him like this, there would be no way to stop the teachers getting to
know. In fact they would probably have a teacher with them. He pictured
Miss Swift, the girls' main PE teacher, standing in front of him, her eyes
travelling down his pale chest and coming to rest on his exposed dick and
balls. Behind her, the girls would be laughing and giggling. They'd be
telling everyone about how they had seen Calvin Goldspink tied up,
naked. He would never be able to face anyone ever again. His parents would
get to hear about it. That would be the final piece of ammunition they
needed to insist that he change schools; not that he could stay here anyway
after everyone had seen him like this. He felt tears of frustration well up
in his eyes. He shook his head angrily to try and get rid of them. The only
thing he could imagine that would be worse than everyone seeing him naked
was if they found him crying as well.

He heard voices. Someone was coming. This was it. The teenager steeled
himself ready for the laughter and the jibes he knew he was going to have
to suffer. The voices were male. That was something at least.

Seconds later two boys entered the gym; older teens, fully dressed in their
school uniform. They were prefects, their status indicated by the band of
gold braid around the cuffs of their school blazers. Calvin immediately
recognised them both, having seen them around the school, but he didn't
know them by name.

Seeing the tied up boy, the two prefects stopped dead in their tracks. One
of them started to chuckle, the other suppressed a smile. Recovering from
the shock of their discovery, they put down the pieces of equipment they
were carrying and hurried over.

"I guess this is what they call overexposure," said the one who had tried
not to smile. He was a tall, good looking boy with brown hair and gentle
brown eyes.

The other laughed. "You know what these famous stars are like. Their fame
goes to their heads until they will do anything to get noticed." This boy
was an inch or so shorter than the other, with dark, spiky hair.

"Untie me, please," Calvin begged.

"I don't know about that," said the dark haired boy. "We wouldn't want to
spoil your publicity stunt."

"Just stop being so bloody stupid and untie me," said Calvin,
frantically. He was sure that in the background he could hear the sound of
girls laughing.

"Maybe we should leave you there, until you learn some respect," the dark
haired boy scowled.

"That's enough, Marcus," the taller boy said, firmly. "Let's get him
down. There's a girls' class due in here any minute."

Calvin had been right. He could hear girls. "Please hurry up," he pleaded.

While Marcus turned his attention to the string tying one of Calvin's
wrists, the other prefect bent down in front of Calvin and pulled up the
boy's briefs, covering his most private parts.

"Thanks," Calvin breathed, relieved that at least his dick was no longer on
public view.

"No problem." The brown haired teen gave a gentle smile. "I know I'd die if
anyone caught me like that." He pulled up Calvin's shorts then turned his
attention to the boy's vest, unhooking from behind his neck and pulling it
down over his chest. "At least you're decent now if anyone comes in."

"Can't get this undone, Rob," said Marcus, who had been tugging at the
string. "I think we might have to cut it."

"Let me see." Rob pulled a small penknife out of his pocket and opening the
blade he sliced easily through the string, repeating the procedure on the
other wrist.

Calvin's arms flopped wearily down to his sides. He massaged his
wrists. There were red marks on them where the string had dug into the
skin.

"Let's have a look at those," said Rob, taking hold Calvin's hands. One
after the other, he examined the boy's wrists. "No damage done," he said,
giving one of them a rub. "Now, how about you telling us who fastened you
up there?"

"It doesn't matter," said Calvin.

"It does matter," Rob insisted. "Tying up you was one thing and could be
seen as a bit of fun. But leaving you to be found in that condition wasn't
something a friend would do to you; that was mean. So who was it?"

"I said it doesn't matter," said Calvin adamantly. "I can handle it."

Rob looked about to say something else but was interrupted by a stream of
young girls surging into the gym. Calvin had a sick feeling in his stomach
as he watched them. If they had come in a couple of minutes earlier, or his
rescuers had been a little later, the results would have been too horrible
to even think about.

"We'd better get moving," said Marcus. He quickly went back and gathered up
the equipment that he and Rob had dropped and took it across to the store
room at the far end of the gym, dropping it there. "Someone else can put it
away," he said.

The two older boys led the way through the girls, every one of whom had
their eyes on Calvin. They must all have seen him around the school at some
stage, but here he was clad only in vest a shorts and it seemed they all
wanted to get a good look at him. Feeling their eyes on his body and
hearing their giggled comments made Calvin's skin crawl.

"Thanks for untying me," Calvin told the prefects, as they entered the
boys' changing room.

"I'd still like to know who was behind it," said Rob.

"Everything alright here?" It was Mr. Blake, the PE teacher. He'd seen the
younger boy in the company of two prefects and come over to investigate.

Calvin gave Rob a pleading look.

The older boy hesitated then shook his head. "Everything's fine. Calvin was
just giving us a hand to put some stuff away."

"That's ok then." said the teacher, satisfied. "You'd better get a move on
Calvin, your next lesson started over five minutes ago." He returned to his
small office, closing the door.

"Thanks again," said Calvin, with a grateful smile.

"It's your funeral," said Rob. "It's my guess that whoever did that to you
has more in store, especially if it's who I suspect it is. You'd better
watch yourself."

"I will."

"Go on and get changed," said Rob. With a shake of his head he turned to
Marcus and the two of them headed off.

Calvin quickly found his clothes and started pulling them on. Having been
covered in sweat, he would probably stink for the rest of the day but he
was already going to be in trouble for being late for his next lesson, so
there was no time for a shower. Besides, even the thought of getting naked
again after the experience he had just suffered sent a nervous shudder
through his body. No, he wasn't going to risk it. If that meant he didn't
smell very nice, too bad.

Calvin managed to escape trouble for being late for his next lesson by
explaining that he'd had to stay behind to help put equipment away. He slid
into a seat next to Dan Murphy, who cast him a questioning look.

"Helped put equipment away?" whispered the boy. "Who are you kidding? There
was nothing to be put away; we did it all before getting changed. What were
you really up to? Not getting a shower, going by the smell of you. You
stink."

"Thanks Dan," Calvin muttered. His friend could always be counted on to
point out those things that only a best friend or worst enemy would tell
you. "If you really want to know, I was in the loo, my guts are playing
up."

"Whew, too much information." Dan pulled a face a dropped the subject.

The rest of the day passed without incident and it was a relief for Calvin
when the final bell sounded. He quickly packed away his things and headed
out. He normally walked home with Dan, who lived a couple of streets away,
but today Dan had Chess Club and so Calvin set off alone. This short walk
of a mile or so had been another bone of contention with his parents who
seemed to think that just because he was fairly well known he shouldn't be
out on the streets unaccompanied in case something happened to him. The boy
had told them they were being ridiculous and had refused point blank to
allow one of them to come and pick him up everyday, threatening to leave
school by the rear entrance if they tried it. His parents had grudgingly
conceded defeat on the issue. Score one to Calvin.

As he walked along, he considered his earlier experience. He was going to
have to do something about Tom before things really got out of hand. But
what? Telling his parents was definitely out. He could already see the "I
told you so" looks on their faces as they rushed to make arrangements for
his transfer to a private school. Telling the teachers was also a non
starter. Tom had already been suspended several times in the past and
wasn't in the least afraid of anything the teacher's might do to
him. Calvin had heard people say that bullies were really cowards and if
you stood up them they would back down. Maybe that was the answer, though
somehow the teenager was sceptical as to the wisdom of this course of
action; though of a similar age, Tom was much bigger and heavier than the
young star and could probably beat the crap out of him with one hand tied
behind his back. Still, something was going to have to be done.

"Hey, it's 'Too Cool For School' Calvin."

The voice brought the boy up short. Tom Mallory and two of his gang were
sitting on a low wall. Calvin groaned.

Tom stood up and took a step forwards. "How's it going, superstar? It's a
shame you somehow managed to escape earlier. I'm sure those little kiddies
would have enjoyed having a good laugh at your tiny tackle."

"I bet it's bigger than yours," snapped Calvin. His heart was beating
faster through a mixture of ear and anger. "I notice you had a good look
yourself. Still, it'll give you something to think about while you're
jerking off on your own in bed tonight."

"I don't think so, Goldspink. You're the only fairy around here." Tom came
closer, a mean look on his face.

Calvin glanced around but the only person in sight was a woman on the other
side of the road, walking her dog. No help there. He considered making a
run for it. He could probably outrun Tom and the other two without any
problem, but of course there was the small matter of pride to think about,
apart from the fact that even if he escaped, his flight would give the
bully more ammunition for the future. No, he decided, this time he wasn't
going to run away. It was time to put the 'bullies are cowards' theory to
the test. "I'm not scared of you, Tom," he snarled, dropping his bag to the
ground and bracing himself.

"Liar," Tom smirked. "You're pissing yourself and we all know it." Without
warning his had flew forwards and grabbed and handful of Calvin's shirt
front, Dragging the boy towards him.


On impulse, Calvin pulled back, hearing a ripping sound as the front of his
shirt tore open. "Damn it, Tom. Now look what you've done." He quickly
glanced down to assess the damage, seeing that several of the buttons had
popped off and the actual fabric was ripped. Furious he lashed out with his
fist, catching the bigger boy a glancing blow to the shoulder.

"You little fuck!" Tom's retaliation came with lightening speed. While he
held onto Calvin's shirt with his right hand he drove his left hard into
the boy's stomach.

The young star's hours of working out practising dance routines had
strengthened his abdominal muscles to a certain extent, but he wasn't
prepared for the force of Tom's blow and he doubled over, all the air
instantly leaving his lungs.

Tom's two friends were on their feet, laughing and cheering on their
leader. "Give it to him, Tom," shouted smaller of the two, a skinny looking
boy known to everyone as "Stick".

Calvin fought to make himself take a breath. Painfully he straightened up,
one arm still hugging his stomach. With the other he tried to break the
bully's hold on his torn shirtfront.

"Oh no you don't, I'm not finished with you yet," Tom snarled. He used the
shirt to pull Calvin in closer then brought his knee up swiftly into the
boy's groin.

Calvin's eye's misted over red as agonising cramps wracked his insides. His
legs gave way and he collapsed onto the ground. As he went down he thought
he could hear someone shouting, but the pain was so intense it blocked
everything out. As he lay gasping, his knees pulled up to his stomach, a
vicious kick connected with his chest. He gave a strangled cry and curled
up tighter in an effort to protect himself from the assault. Screwing his
eyes shut, and tucking his head down, he braced himself, prepared for
further blows and kicks. Something touched his shoulder and his whole body
jerked in response. But the touch was light, even gentle, not what he had
been expecting. Someone was speaking to him.

"Calvin. They've gone, it's alright. Are you ok?"

With an effort the teen managed to uncurl himself enough to give a slight
nod. He forced his eyes open. Standing over him was the prefect, Rob, who
had come to his rescue earlier in the gym. Alongside him, looking
frightened, was a younger boy.

"Looks like they were giving you a proper going over," said Rob, his
expression concerned. "Are you badly hurt?"

"N...no, I think I'll be ok," Calvin stammered. He made to uncurl his legs
and grimaced as pain lanced through his groin.

"You sure? Don't try to move until you get your breath back." Rob was
kneeling on the ground, gently supporting Calvin's head with one
hand. "That was Tom Mallory and his gang. They ran off when they saw us
coming. I'd a feeling that's who you were having trouble with. He's a nasty
piece of work."

Moving slowly, Calvin straightened himself out and with the older boy's
help he managed to get to his feet. He hurt everywhere and felt a bit sick,
but it didn't feel like there was any serious damage. Apart from to his
pride.

"You absolutely sure that you're ok?" The expression on Rob's face
indicated that he was far from convinced.

"I'll be fine, really," Calvin insisted, trying to take some deep breaths
to clear his head.

"You got far to go?" Rob asked.

"No not really," Calvin replied, absently, his attention now on the state
of his shirt. It hung completely open at the front, exposing his chest and
stomach. Half the buttons were missing and there would be no disguising the
tear down one side. "Just look at the state of this."

"It's just a shirt," said Rob. "I'm much more concerned with you."

Calvin shook his head, trying to fight back tears of frustration. It was
more than just a torn shirt, it was the perfect excuse his parents had been
looking for to get him moved to another school. He could hide the fact that
he'd been in a fight, but the shirt would be visible the moment he walked
in the door.

"Calvin, forget the shirt, it isn't important." Rob insisted. "You can get
a knew one."

"You don't understand," said Calvin. Miserably, he sat down on the wall and
gave the older boy a brief explanation of the situation.

"Ah, I see," said Rob. He had seated himself on the wall next to
Calvin. The younger boy stood at the side, watching silently.

"I might be able to sneak in," said Calvin, "But if Mum catches me, that
will be it."

"How about if we lend you a shirt to go home in," Rob suggested, after a
slight pause. "Either one of mine of one of Leo's. It won't be a be a
perfect fit but it might give you enough time to get in and change before
anyone notices. Oh, by the way, in case you didn't know, my name is Rob;
Rob Dixon, and this is my brother, Leo.

The younger boy nodded his head shyly as his name was mentioned. He was a
year or so younger than Calvin and looked very much like a younger version
of his big brother, though he seemed to lack Rob's natural confidence.

"Well, you obviously know who I am," said Calvin, with a grimace as he
touched his hand to his ribs. "You'd really lend me one of your shirts?"

Rob nodded. "Sure we would. We only live round the corner. Let's go see if
we can find something suitable. If you want, you can phone your parents
from there and let them know you'll be a few minutes late."

The three of them made their way along the street, moving slowly since
Calvin was pretty sore from his encounter with Tom. His balls especially
hurt and every step provided a sharp reminder of his earlier agony. He held
the front of his shirt closed to try and cover himself up. Not that there
was really anyone around to see, but he didn't feel comfortable walking
around with his body on show, not in a public street. He was just glad that
there weren't any photographers around; the press would have a field day
with this if they got hold of it.

The house turned out to be only a couple of hundred yards away. The older
teen pulled a key out of his pocket.

"There's no one in," Rob explained. "Mum and dad don't get home from work
until later so there won't be any awkward questions." He opened the door
and let them all inside.

Rob led the way upstairs and straight into his bedroom. "Excuse the mess,"
he said, quickly gathering up a pair of shorts and pulling the bedclothes
straight. He turned to his brother. "Leo, go fetch one of your clean
shirts. We'll try one of yours and one of mine and see which looks the
best."

"Quiet, isn't he?" Calvin observed, after the youngster left without saying
anything; he hadn't yet said a single word since they'd first met.

Rob grinned. "He's not usually like that. It's you," he said keeping his
voice low. "For goodness sake don't let him know I told you, but you're his
idol. He has posters of you in his room and every time he sees you at
school he talks about it for ages afterwards, even if he only sees you from
a distance or passes you in the corridor. He thinks it's so cool being at
the same school as a celebrity. This will be the highlight of his year, you
actually being here in our house. And if you decide to wear one of his
shirts, that's something we'll probably be hearing about for the rest of
our lives. He'd die if he heard about the condition I found you in
earlier."

"You won't tell anyone about that, will you?" asked Calvin, quickly.

"Don't worry, that will be out secret. I even swore Marcus to secrecy; he's
not such a bad guy when you get to know him."

"Thanks," said Calvin.

Leo came back in carrying a clean, white shirt. "I hope it fits," he said,
softly, the first words he had spoken.

"As long as I can get into it and fasten it up, it will be great," said
Calvin. He pulled his own shirt open and started to take out his arms,
grimacing as the movement pulled at his bruise ribs.

"Here, let me help," said Rob, stepping forwards. But his younger brother
beat him to it. Leo took hold of the back of Calvin's shirt and eased it
off the boy's shoulders.

Calvin felt a little self conscious stripping even to such a limited extent
in front of these boys, but Rob had already seen him in a much more exposed
state and the brothers were doing their best to help him so he decided the
best thing was just to get on with it. He noticed both boys having a good
look at his bare chest and resisted the temptation to fold his arms. "I
feel like I'm on stage," he said, lightly.

"Sorry," said Rob. "I didn't mean to stare. I was half expecting your ribs
to be black and blue after the kick that Tom gave you."

"The kick didn't hurt half as much as the knee to my balls," said
Calvin. "But I'm not having you looking at those to see if they're black
and blue," he joked.

"Spoilsport," Rob grinned. Leo blushed and looked away.

With Leo's help, Calvin put on the new shirt. Leo was younger and a little
smaller than the singer, but the shirt, though a bit tight, looked like it
would do the job if he didn't button up the neck and no one paid it too
much attention.

"You sure you don't mind me borrowing this?" Calvin asked the younger
brother.

"No, that's fine," said Leo. "I'm glad it fits."

"You going to settle for that then, or do you want to try one of mine?" Rob
asked.

Leo's face took on an almost pleading look, his eyes on Calvin's face.

"This will be perfect," said Calvin, remembering Rob's comments about his
brother and trying not to laugh. The effort caused his ribs to hurt and his
amusement instantly vanished. "I think I ought to be going," he said,
trying to hide his discomfort.

"You sure? You look like you're about to be sick," said Rob, obviously not
fooled by the boy's attempted cover-up. "Maybe you should take it easy for
a few minutes and see if you start to feel better."

"I'm fine," Calvin insisted, stubbornly. "I really should be getting home."

"Alright, but I'm coming with you."

Calvin gave a sigh. "There's no need. I told you, I'm ok. I'm just a bit
sore, that's all."

Now it was Rob's turn to sigh. "Tell me something, Calvin," he said. "Have
you always been this pigheaded or is it something that's happened since you
became famous?"

Calvin felt his face redden.  He opened his mouth to speak, but it seemed
that Rob hadn't finished.

"I'm sure that most of the time you are more than capable of sorting out
your own problems, but there comes a time when everyone needs some help."
The older teen shook his head. "Are you this independent when you're off
doing your music stuff with the rest of the group? Because if you are you
must be a real pain to be around. Or maybe you think I'm just trying to get
in with you because you're the famous Calvin Goldspink. In which case let
me tell you that you're way off the mark. I've been trying to help not
because of who you are but because you're a kid in trouble; a kid who just
nearly got his brains beaten out in the street. If you'd accepted some help
earlier, when we found you in the gym, you might have escaped that
beating. But no, you had to try and act cool and deal with it yourself."

Calvin's face was flaming and he fought to control his temper. "If I'm such
a pain, why do you bother? Just leave me alone. When I want help I'll ask
for it."

"I really don't know why I'm bothering with you," Rob muttered, hotly. "But
I don't suppose it's occurred to you that Tom and his gang might still be
hanging around, waiting to finish the job that they've started."

Rob was right, this wasn't something that Calvin had considered and the
thought of it was enough to put a damper on his temper. Suddenly he felt
quite stupid. "I'm sorry," he said, softly.

"Does that mean that you've seen sense and you'll let me walk you home?"
asked Rob, with a dry smile.

"I suppose so. If you want. But I really should be going now."

"That's fine with me," said Rob.

Calvin turned to Leo, who had stood to one side looking unhappy as the two
older boys argued. "Thanks for loaning me the shirt. I'll get it back to
you tomorrow."

"No problem," Leo said, smiling shyly.

The walk to Calvin's house only took about ten minutes. It would have taken
less, but Calvin's balls still hurt. He tried to hide it, but it was
difficult when each step caused a sharp pain in his groin. The journey
seemed to take even longer due the icy silence that both boys
maintained. Rob's words had hurt, even more so because they were largely
true; Calvin was far too stubborn for his own good and he knew it. On the
plus side, they saw no sign of Tom or any of his friends.

"I think I can manage now," said Calvin, coolly, as they approached his
front door. "Thanks for coming with me, and for earlier and everything, and
I'm sorry if I've been a pain." He tried to make his tone match his words
but was only partially successful. In truth he was still angry, though more
at himself than at Rob.

Rob gave a short laugh. "I've got a younger brother, and if you want to
know how to be a pain, ask him for lessons because he's even better at it
than you are." His expression turned to one of concern. "If the pain
doesn't start to ease soon, tell someone about it. Chances are you're just
a bit bruised, but if it's anything worse than that then it wants seeing
to. Look out for swellings down there," he nodded in the direction of
Calvin's groin.

"I'll be fine."

"So you keep saying. I know you're a tough little bugger, I watched you
take that beating with barely a whimper, so you don't have anything to
prove. I'm just asking you to be careful."

"I will."

"Good. I guess I'll see you around."

"I guess so." With a wave, Calvin turned and went inside.


End of part 1.


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